The Falcon Cannot Hear the Falconer
by Shire cat
Summary: Lois Kills Stewie.  One-shot/missing scene about Brian's captivity in the White House with Stewie. The title is from "The Second Coming" by William Butler Yeats.


Lois Kills Stewie. One-shot/missing scene about Brian's captivity in the White House with Stewie. The title is from "The Second Coming" by William Butler Yeats.

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He didn't know how long he'd been there-it could have been a few days, weeks or even a few months. It was bizarre, the whole situation. The kid (though that word never felt quite right attached to Stewie) who had been his charge and had almost become his friend, had tried to kill the woman Brian loved-Stewie's own mother, held a gun to Brian's head and forced him to be an accomplice to the world's biggest coup d'etat.

Yet here Brian was still, stuck with him.

Brian was starting to feel very much like a 'kept' dog. Not pampered, certainly, but comfortable-he had his booze, his smokes, his dry food and his water in a bowl with just a few ice cubes in it (no matter how much he enjoyed 'people food', the familiar childhood comfort that bagged dog food gave him was insurmountable). Stewie was treating him like a comrade rather than a prisoner or a slave…Why?

Brian glanced around. Usually he would have been awed to be in such historical surroundings or maybe he would have been forced to think of all the corruption this place has housed but all he could see was the crumbling remains of past grandeur; of the country and the life of him and his family. He grimaced.

"What's wrong, dog?"

"What?"

Passive behavior or not, Stewie was still Stewie and Brian didn't want to risk pissing him off. This was the same kid who had maimed him and set him on fire over a fifty-dollar debt.

"I said 'What's wrong?' I'd be lying if I said that there's been a day so when you've not been miserable but today you seem more so than usual. You've got a look on your face like someone just killed-oops, tried to kill-the woman you love," Stewie replied with nasty smile on his face.

Some time ago, anywhere close to Stewie's first reveal of his matricidal attempt, this comment would have had Brian seething in anger –going for a punch and feeling the loss of Lois as if it were still fresh. Now he couldn't even feel it if he tried.

"Stewie?" the baby looked up, probably from drafting his proposal forbidding pronouncing Cool-Whip without the extra 'h' or some such psychotic thing, "Why are you keeping me… here?"

Alive, was what he wanted to say, but the word got stuck in his throat. That and he didn't want to put any ideas in the little nutcase's head.

"Would you prefer to be out there being harassed and tortured? Because I can arrange that, it's what I do."

Again Stewie treated Brian to the smug, evil grin that Brian loathed so deeply. Brian continued.

"I mean, okay, you took me because you needed a hostage so Peter and Lois wouldn't stop you and you needed a driver and you needed someone to reach the door knobs but it's over now. You're in charge of _everything_, you don't need me as a buffer anymore…"

"Well, you're the dog."

"Yeah, but I'm not your dog. You hate me half the time anyhow."

"What's it to you? You're alive aren't you?"

"I'm never going to see my family again and I'm powerless to stop you from destroying life as I know it. I'm sitting here, useless, while the world burns." Brian was surprised by the sudden heat his words bore.

"Maybe that's the fun part for me, watching you squirm and twist and wince while everything falls apart, knowing you helped cause it and now are powerless to stop it."

"You really are a sick little prick, you know that?"

"Flattery will get you everywhere."

Brian was silent and then-

"Why do you need the whole world?"

Stewie looked surprised at the question. Brian continued,

"Okay, I get it, you want power. But why do you need the whole world? Couldn't you just start a company or at least just be the president of only one country? Why do you need it all? And what does Lois have to do with any of it?"

Stewie sighed and hopped off the chair. The fact that he had to hop suddenly reminded Brian just how young he was and how a serious expression like that really shouldn't be twisting a baby's-toddler's-features

"I don't expect you to understand this, Brian. But I've always been…different. My whole life I've felt this pressure to be better than everyone else and Lois…she's just always been _there_, in my way. She takes my intellect and my promise and my vision and she reduces me to a, a _child_!"

"Stewie, you're three years old and you still can't use the toilet."

"That's beside the point! Anyway, maybe the reason you're still here, just maybe is because I needed someone who had at least a hope of understanding me. After all, you're much more like me than you are any of _them_."

"Are you insane? You killed and terrorized innocent people-including your own mother- just to stroke your own ego! You're a sociopath! I am nothing like you."

"Oh, really? Think about it, Brian. The question isn't why I'm keeping you here but why you're _staying_ here."

"You said if I tried anything, Lois and the family would get it."

"Oh, come on. Are you really that afraid of me? You're twice my size-you could have me out like a light before I made a move. You don't want to stop me."

"I am afraid of you: I don't know what you're capable of," Brian surprised to hear himself say the words, "And maybe," he said, realizing he was echoing Stewie, "if I don't want to hurt you, it's because by some sick twist of fate I've come to consider you my kid."

Stewie's cocky expression seemed to falter for a second but the façade slid right back into place. He continued as if he hadn't heard Brian's last statement.

"I don't know what you're so upset about, anyway. You're always complaining that the system is broken…here's your chance to fix it from the inside. Besides, you know you don't fit in with them, or anyone else, any better than I do. Have you ever even met another anthropomorphic dog besides that creepy grey douchebag we tried to replace you with? Your intellect keeps you isolated from everyone and your pride won't let you admit it. Face it, you're as lonely and in need of a purpose as I am."

"That's not true. I mean, I'm lonely sometimes, sure, but Lois, Peter, and the kids love me…"

"That's why they belittle your attempts to better yourself at every turn and treat you more like a pet than an equal despite telling you otherwise?"

"You're wrong- you're wrong! What you're talking about is normal human interaction: people's relationships aren't one-sided, there's ups and downs, things people like about each other and things they don't. To ask to be exonerated and worshiped like a god is ridiculous. You have to give respect before you can get it, Stewie."

As much as Brian hated himself for it, as much as he wanted to deny it, a small part of him had agreed with Stewie; feeling powerless, unappreciated and ignored when he had something to say…He'd be lying if he said that he'd never thought that he could do better than some of deadbeats in Washington but everyone has those thoughts now and again.

"Brian, I'm offering you the entire world here…"

Brian suddenly, irrationally, saw a several week old Stewie swim before his eyes, one of his clearest memories of Stewie's first days.

The family finally had thought it safe to let Brian around the kid, babies being fragile and all. And okay, Brian wasn't necessarily a fan of kids but he wasn't going to hurt it or anything. "Dog!" the baby had screamed, Stewie never being one for baby talk even as a newborn. Lois had left Brian on the couch with the infant. Stewie had pulled on his ears and yanked his tail trying it get a rise out of him. It had hurt like hell but Brian did his best to ignore it, not wanting to cause any damage to the thing. When the cavalcade of abuse was over, Stewie curled up at Brian's side, lying face-first in his fur and went to sleep. Brian was relieved that he kid had stopped and realized, ruefully, that he was kind of cute when he slept.

All that time spent changing Stewie's diapers and reading him bedtime stories had given him a strong affection for Stewie as well as an awareness of the dichotomy between sweetness and sociopathy that he seemed to hold. Looking back, Brian didn't just remember the beatings and the fights but the companion that he had trusted with his abandonment issues and his vulnerabilities and who had done likewise with him.

Now looking at the grim, angry boy in front of him who was asking him to help destroy life as he knew it, it seemed that the softer Stewie was gone forever.

"I'm offering you the world, Brian, and all you have to do is say yes."

"You're a bully and a killer, Stewie and if you think I'll help you act on either of those qualities you're crazy, too."

"Do whatever you want, Brian. I know you'll come around in the end."

The kid scuttled away. Brian was coursing with the heat of his refusal but deep inside, he knew he'd never really been able to say no to Stewie for very long.


End file.
